The Flood
by He who writes98
Summary: After Buu, things are peaceful again on Earth, but not for long. The new threat is something that the Z-fighters could never have even imagined. Complications arise and surviving becomes daunting. Old characters resurface, along with new ones. Non-canon.


**I** _own nothing, let alone the rights to DragonBall. All rights are reserved with Akira Toriyama._

 _ **THE FLOOD**_

 **Chapter-1**

 _Vegeta_

It was quiet.

Around the Capsule Corp compound, on chilly night, not even the familiar sounds of the gravity machine or the loud screeching of the blue-haired woman inside could be heard. The hour was not as late as it seemed, around 8 o'clock on a Saturday evening. One could almost assume that for a place not known for serenity, there seemed to be an air of calm residing, hinting at the absence of the residents.

But that was not the case.

All residents of the compound were inside. They were just taking a break from their normal schedules.

The family was assembled around the television, indulging in a 'Family Funtime Night', cornily coined by the mother and wife. It was a day which only occurred once a week, though all but one member wished it were more frequent.

A movie was playing across the movie theatre sized TV screen, while popcorn was being munched, very loudly by some members. There was an odd slurping sound now and then, as Trunks indulged in his colourful caffeinated drink, and Dr. Briefs sipped his steaming coffee. Why he was drinking coffee at this hour, who knew? If one listened closely, Scratch the Cat's light purrs could be heard, though the animal seemed more involved in the film than it should be. But other than that, not a single sound could be heard that wasn't from the home theatre system.

Vegeta had been sceptical at first. Last week's family night had left a sour memory, as Bulma had introduced him to the card playing game known as Poker. At first Vegeta had been overwhelmed. It was obvious that the old man was a pro, and had passed some skills onto his daughter. It was a betting game, as the old man had said, and after a few rounds of losing to him and Bulma in mock games, Vegeta had decided he had had enough.

He was far too competitive to let that continue. He had worked out the dynamics of the game, and no one could read facial expressions and body language like he did. Thus, confidently he had wagered his gravity room rights for the next week in exchange for choosing the spot for the family vacation at the end of the year. It was a dangerous bet. But Vegeta's confidence was unshaken. Finally, I have the control, he had thought. Soon, he had the game by the scruff of the neck.

What the Prince wasn't banking on was the unexpected skills of , who suddenly rallied in the last quarter of the game and swiped the board. Right before his eyes. He couldn't believe it. The gravity machine hadn't been turned on since.

He had taken a strange liking to certain Earthling films, though most were ridiculous. A handpicked few, such as the one currently playing, had caught his attention for being somewhat original in storyline and plot. Thus, when this week's family night had been deemed a movie night, he hadn't been particularly annoyed. Better than 'Cooking Night', he could safely say.

He, along with Bulma, Trunks, and Bulma's parents had sat together, initially uncomfortably, in the massive TV room. Vegeta usually could not stand the blond haired woman any other time than when she was serving food.

It was safe to say she had earned a small portion of his respect last week. Although it would be great if she stopped cooing almost every time a character died on screen. Which was often.

Movie picking had been a tedious process, with Bulma and Trunks loudly arguing over various genres such as Horror and Romance. It was Dr. Briefs who had made the ultimate suggestion, and Bulma had relented after Vegeta had completely refused to watch a movie of the genre known as 'RomCom'. It was a 'Spaghetti Western', as Dr. Briefs had called it, and had just the right amount of violence and gore for Vegeta to deem it watchable. Trunks did not want to watch an old film, but he too compromised after his mother's threats regarding the ownership of his video games. She didn't approve of the movie, but she'd be damned before she let Trunks, or Vegeta for that matter, skip another Family night.

Alas, 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly' was the movie being watched by the group. It took some time, but after a point even Trunks and Vegeta were completely absorbed in the film. No more sour comments or complaints could be heard after the small interval they had taken, as everyone was engrossed in the movie and its characters.

By the time of the final showdown, there was some serious edge of seat sitting and nail-biting going on. Although Vegeta hadn't moved much, just one glance could reveal how involved he was watching the gunfight on screen. The weapons used by these humans were weak, and the warriors themselves were not much, but the fighting spirit and mystery surrounding the man with blond hair had caught his eye. He could appreciate a good warrior mentality when he saw one.

Sometime over the course of the movie, Bulma had slowly inched closer and closer to Vegeta, unconsciously looking for her husband's warmth with eyes still on the screen. The response was also unconscious, as one arm placed itself onto the sofa headrest. It was through small actions like these that Vegeta showed the affection he had for his wife.

As the credits rolled, attentions were shifted, and Trunks stretched from his spot on the carpet. His expression was dismayed at the abrupt ending to the movie.

"Mom, what happens next? Where did Blondie go? How's Tuco gonna get out of there? Wher-"

He stops as soon as he sees the annoyed expression on his Father's face. Bulma though, is delighted with her son's inquisitiveness.

"Now now Trunks, I can't see the future, can I? Why don't you ask the director?"

"Sergio Leone's dead, dear" Dr. Brief's chuckles, shaking his head in amusement at his grandson's shattered expression. The boy was nearing his tenth birthday, and was asking always questions for his grandfather to answer. They were getting increasingly difficult too.

"Grandpa, do you know any other movies like this one? With lots of action!" Trunks asks, his mood changing again. The boys emotions were like a roller coaster.

"Of course I do, but let's wait till you're a bit older now, shall we?"

Finding them a movie to watch was difficult, and letting Trunks watch this one was not his decision. It seemed the boy was more persuasive than he had anticipated.

Still, if he was watching anything other than those damned cartoons, he was happy.

'A good movie always leaves you more questions than it answered' he says in his head. There's a reason old is Gold.

Even Vegeta had a few questions, though he would dare not voice them. Why wouldn't the blond gunman just shoot the other guy and take the money? The thought puzzled him. This entire human concept of honour was wrong. Yet, it did make for an interesting story.

With his thoughts occupied, Vegeta absentmindedly lifts Bulma with him as he gets up of the couch, her hanging with her arms around his neck. She immediately straddles herself to his waist to stop herself from falling. To counterbalance the weight, Vegeta grabs her underneath her legs. It took a moment for them to steady, but when they did, they both realised what an intimate position they were in.

And everyone could see.

It was fair to say Vegeta didn't react in the best way. He immediately removed his grip, and let Bulma drop to the floor unceremoniously. She landed promptly on her buttocks, possibly dislocating something.

"Ow! You jerk!" was the scream, and Vegeta instantly regretted his action. Even if that were not the case, Bulma would surely make him regret it soon, possibly even today. It was time for a hasty retreat.

He ignored the amused looks sent his way by the Briefs and hurries out. His face burned from the intense blush he was sporting. Why was he blushing? He turns a glance to Trunks. The boy's embarrassed look only seemed to add to _his_ embarrassment.

Closing the door behind him rather loudly, Vegeta lets go of a huge breath he didn't know he was holding. 'What was I thinking? How could I have been so slow to react? That damn woman.'

These questions keep bouncing about in his head, and he can't stop them. He bounds up the stairs, towards the dining hall. Maybe food would clear his mind.

But his thoughts seem to always drift back to Bulma. She wasn't hurt, that much he was sure of. Why should he be embarrassed? 'I've lived in this house for more than 10 years, and I've spent most of them with Bulma. Why do moments like that still get to me?'

It had been almost a year since the whole Buu fiasco, and things were about as peaceful as they had ever been. Unlike the other ordeals that the Earth had undergone, this one had been forgotten instantly, after Kakkarot's wish. The humans were barely affected at all, many of them returning exactly to whatever they were doing before Buu arrived. The new Earth didn't seem so new.

The Z-Fighters, including that Satan fellow, were the only ones who could remember all the destruction the pink blob had brought to this world. Vegeta had been completely against letting him stay, but the fat one had played a vital role in the survival of the universe. When Satan ensured that he would take full care of the creature, and no harm would come of it, Vegeta decided to just let it go. It took him some time.

Nowadays his wife takes the thing along when she goes shopping. Says it's a great shopping buddy. Funny how trusting these humans are.

Still, it was nice to know that things had come to an end, somewhat. Peace hadn't reigned for long, and it probably wouldn't. That didn't mean they couldn't enjoy it.

Inactivity was something that had always annoyed him. Under Frieza, every second he had spent not contributing to his power in some way had felt wasted. The Booze nights with Raditz and Nappa in Cabin 16 had felt so wrong the morning after. Killing weaklings, with power levels below 100 had felt like a waste of time and energy. It was for that reason that Frieza had sent him on so many of those purges in the farther galaxies. Just to rile him up.

Resting was only reserved for after battles, and hard days of training. While others had slept soundly, Vegeta would always be up and about doing his katas somewhere. Hypersleep was never an enjoyable experience.

The trend had continued after he had arrived on Earth, while training to fight the Androids. He had spent entire days in that gravity room, often going weeks without sleep. After Frieza, this was the next challenge he could relish.

Only after extreme bouts of exhaustion, and frustration at his power increase, did he start having his little flings with Bulma. There was a reprieve he found in her soft body and loving words. He would spend the nights fornicating with her, and spend the following days ignoring her and hating himself. It was a difficult cycle for both of them.

The Cell games had opened his eyes up a bit. Life became more than just getting stronger. Kakarrot was no longer around, so it was pointless to set that as a goal. There was also his Son to think about. They boy had grown so strong so quickly, and only through his father's training, he was rather proud to say. Trunks could best Kakarrot's second spawn any day. That fact never ceased to enrapture him.

Though he would later drop it all to join Babiddi, these attachments had become a part of him, and it took a senseless beating for him to understand them. Inactivity didn't seem so bad anymore.

Resting became much more than resting. It was learning about life, one way or the other. Bored as he was, the Earth always seemed to fascinate him in some way. This mudball had a lot more to offer than he expected. 'Culture Shock' Bulma had called it. If that was the actual term, he was getting 'shocked' quite often.

He sat down at the table, and pondered over serving himself with some of the food at the counter. He was hungry, that was for sure. He decided against it though, as Bulma had told him before it was rude to start eating a 'family dinner' without his family present. Also, the woman and her mother liked serving the food, for some strange reason. He decided he would follow her rules tonight at least. Angering her further would not do him any good. There was a variety of ways she could punish him. Torture was one of the woman's fortitudes. Better to not add fuel to the fire.

Especially if it was a little bundle of blue fire he called his woman.

There was a large banquet spread over the counter, and the various smells and aromas were tempting him. His supreme sense of smell wasn't helping, as it allowed him to discern every single dish. Those huge king prawns in the seafood platter caught his attention, as did the barbequed ribs in the grilled platter. His curiosity got the better of him, as he removed each of the large steel lids and inspected what was beneath them. He couldn't stop his mouth salivating as he stared at all the different cuisines had prepared. The woman was very dedicated when it came to food. She always did go all out for these family dinners.

Organizing them into different platters was actually his idea, and she had been absolutely delighted when he suggested it, during the preparation for Trunk's 9th birthday banquet. In truth, it made the meal a lot more interesting and exciting. Everyone had praised her not only for the taste, but for the organization as well. She was going tell all those fools it was his idea, so he had made her promise not to share that information with anyone, but the woman's mouth was always running one way or the other. Another embarrassment was lurking around the corner for him.

Just when he was thinking he might just tuck into the food anyway, Trunks appeared. He barely even noticed his father as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table. Make that two ravenous saiyans.

To his surprise, the boy grabbed a prawn and started wolfing it down. How dare he-

"Boy, just what do you think you're doing?"

Trunks immediately drops the next prawn he had already taken in his hand, and turns to his father with a fearful look. He had been more mischievous than usual lately, and had heard those exact same words many times. It had just come to realization that his father was already sitting here, _not eating._

"But Dad, the foods on the table! Can't let it get cold can I?"

His voice came out more nervous than steady. But really, it wasn't his fault his father wasn't eating, was it?

"Your grandmother left it steaming hot. A normal human wouldn't even be able to touch those." He stated squarely, clearly not amused.

"Just one more…." His hand reached out to the prawns again, before a tiny ki blast struck his wrist. The wrist lightly seared from the heat.

"Ah!" he wailed, and the hand was weakly reeled away. Maybe waiting wasn't such a bad idea. A blast like that was the saiyan equivalent to a slap on the wrist. But where had it come from?

"Wow, Dad! How did you fire that without your hands? I didn't even see them move!" Sure enough, both Vegeta's hands were still placed on the table.

Another light beam struck him in the centre of his forehead, hitting a single strand of lavender hair. This time he clearly saw where it came from.

"I didn't know you could do eye blasts! That's so cool! Where did you learn? You _have_ to teach me, Dad."

"I was taught how to do eye blasts when I was 8 years old. It's child's play, and you can't get much ki into it before your eyes start hurting anyway. That's why I don't use it much."

The boy's excited look didn't even falter.

Nappa was the one who had taught him. In truth, he was just as excited when he saw Nappa do it the first time. Nappa could put a lot more power into it, after years of practice. Vegeta too had tried to use it in battle, and he almost lost his life after he was blinded by his own attack and surrounded by enemies. Nappa had got him out of that one as well. The bald bastard had been useful from time to time.

Trunks had a lot to learn. He was still relatively poor at harnessing the massive ki at his disposal. All these saiyan human hybrids seemed to have large stores of energy, just waiting to surface. But Ki is useless without the ability to yield it.

He was still better than Goten at it though.

"Still, I can use it as a surprise attack. Or I can use it to scare Chad off of me! Let's train tomorrow."

Vegeta still didn't have the faintest clue who 'Chad' was, but if the boy really wanted to learn, he would teach him. It wouldn't be too difficult. Explanations to his mother would be though.

His mother. Bulma. Why wasn't Bulma here? And where were the old man and woman? They should be having dinner now!

Had he really hurt her that much? Was she taken to the infirmary? He instantly did a quick ki sweep, and found that they hadn't left the TV room. There was something faltering in their ki signals though. Something was happening. Were they watching something else? Just when he thought he might go inspect, a familiar screaming tone was heard.

"Vegeta! Trunks! Come here now!" Bulma's screeching voice reverberated around the house. There was a fair amount of distress evident in it. What now?

"Come on boy" he ordered to his son, turning to return back the way they came. He cast a sidelong glance at the food, just before he pulled the boy out and closed the door. Not before the boy could grab another prawn though.

Whatever this was, it better be good.

 _Piccolo_

Piccolo really did hate it when his meditation was disturbed.

He was just entering a crucial phase in his memory of the battle with Android 17, when he felt a small disturbance near the Beach in North City. He had picked this mountainside in the middle of nowhere for the peace and secluded surroundings, and since the lookout had begun to bore him a bit. Damn these sensitive ears.

People were panicking and there was a lot of screaming.

Most of the times it was nothing. A lot of crime occurred on this planet still, and that could be handled by local police. That was what they were there for, after all. There were no more major threats to the planet. He wouldn't be running around pulling cats out of trees like Saiyaman anytime soon.

Still, there were times when a large group seemed distressed, that he would just go around and inspect what was happening. One time he had raced over to the South City, where more than a million people had started hollering at the same time, and found that apparently it was 'New Year's Eve' and they were doing some sort of countdown.

Humans never failed to dumbfound him.

This was obviously different though. Probably some terrorist bomb threat, or a large heist of some kind. He couldn't sense any new kis on the planet, so nothing to worry about.

The screaming continued for some time, and Piccolo was getting seriously pissed. A headache was forming. There was no point in blocking them out, he still couldn't regain the level of concentration he had before.

After a few more fruitless attempts, he decided to confront whatever it was, and put an end to it. The headache was building fast. 'Might as well get it over with' he thought, as dusted as he removed his meditative stance and dusted off his hands. His ki flowed lightly beneath him as he rose above the clearing he had made for himself. He accelerated quickly, shooting towards the North City skyscrapers.

It wouldn't take more than a couple of seconds. He should get himself a pair of earmuffs somewhere. Large enough to keep the whole world quiet. 

_HELLO PEOPLE! My first proper fanfic has arrived! Review my work please! Any comments, constructive or not, are welcome! Am I not explaining things properly? What can be done better? Should I even continue with this story? Enlighten me with your thoughts! Will be making things a bit more POV orientated in the chapters to come. Trust me when I say my writing will get better. This is just a taster after all! Chapters will be substantially longer after this! SEE YOU SOON! CIAO! xxxOOO_


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